Hopes rise and dreams flicker and die. Love plans for tomorrow and loneliness thinks of yesterday. Life is… — Hunter S. Thompson

Events of the past two years have virtually decreed that I shall wrestle with the literary muse for the rest of my days. And so, having tasted the poverty of one end of the scale, I have no choice but to direct my energies toward the acquisition of fame and fortune. Frankly, I have no taste for either poverty or honest labor, so writing is the only recourse left me.

A man has to BE something; he has to matter.

You'd be surprised at the things people will do in order to get their names or pictures in the paper.